


Here Comes The Rain

by Sjukdom



Series: A Bastard Angel [2]
Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:51:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sjukdom/pseuds/Sjukdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t need water”, said Jim, pushing the words out of his sore throat that screamed for being moistened at last. Not with ordinary liquids, no, for that wasn’t for too hot weather, but for Harvey and him not meeting since the temperature began to rise. The thirst that made his throat hurt wasn’t supposed to be satisfied with water.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Here Comes The Rain

**Author's Note:**

> I used the lyrics of The Cult's song called "Rain" as the epigraph.

  
_Hot sticky scenes, you know what I mean_   
_Like a desert sun that burns my skin_   
_Here comes the rain_   
_I love the rain_   


The heat.

It was all around, among the buildings that were under the scorching sun for so long they began to radiate their own hotness, metallic and rusty. The air was thick, the daylight blinding. Jim began to sweat even before he put any clothes on and left the relative coolness of his flat for the summer hell that had broken loose outside. Soon his clothes were soaked, his hair wet and his face red and sticky and he still had the whole day ahead, stolen from him by the heat.

The thirst.

To replace the living juices that escaped his body through every pore, Jim drank water, as greedily as a dying flower. From the dispenser that was also oppressed by other GCPD residents. From bottles he bought again and again for the purpose that was unclear even to him, because they seemed to be empty from the moment he took them from the sleepy shop assistant. Water in drinking fountains was disgustingly warm and oily, but Jim gulped it as if it was a nectar of gods.

Jim also knew the other kind of heat, the animal condition, the state of arousal so intense it made his head spin. Or it was the world that spun around and he was the axis, the life-giving fire leaking through his lips on its way up from his underbelly; the deadly volcano, ready to spread its boiling blood around. The weather confused him and Jim was too slow to understand that it was exactly that heat that made his shirt stick to his body, outlining his nipples, red and oversensitive from constant rubbing against the rough cotton fabric.

And the thirst that made his throat hurt wasn’t supposed to be satisfied with water.

***

Harvey was at the bar, watching gloomily the weather forecast at the dirty screen of cheap TV set placed among half-empty liquor bottles. He cursed each time he heard there would no rain like a heretic worshiper of a thunderstorm god. There was an untouched glass before him, foamless beer the color of ancient amber. Or stale urine, more likely, judging by its smell. And taste, as Jim took the glass and sipped from it, wincing at the sourness.

“Thanks, I’d never be able to finish this shit myself”, said Harvey at the disgusted sounds Jim made. He kept his hat on, despite the temperature in the room. “Water? I’m fucking withering. The city will become deserted if there will be no rain in the next few days.”

“I don’t need water”, said Jim, pushing the words out of his sore throat that screamed for being moistened at last. Not with ordinary liquids, no, for that wasn’t for too hot weather, but for Harvey and him not meeting since the temperature began to rise. The weather was just the reflection of his inner state, a not-so-funny coincidence and the reminder what he would get to without Harvey. A wasteland, a desert, a burn-out.

Harvey squinted at him. The last stranger stumbled away, leaving them alone. Suddenly Jim became worried that Harvey would deny him, remembering for how long Jim didn’t bother to visit him. He leaned forward in one harsh movement that blurred his vision, blurred Harvey’s face before him. He attempted to reach his lips with his own, cracked and rough, closing his eyes just before finally pressing his mouth to Harvey’s, but Harvey stopped him by poking at his chest lightly.

“Wait, wait, boy scout, not here”, Jim opened his eyes reluctantly. Although he was happy Harvey didn’t tell him to fuck off at once. Harvey stood up, locked up the front door and headed for the back door without looking back. Jim followed him after a moment, his last words that came in whisper still ringing in his ears.

“No kisses on the mouth yet.”

The weather man on TV still mumbled something about rainfalls that weren’t supposed to come for the whole week. Jim didn’t give a fuck about these rains anyway. His own will fall soon, exactly how he needed it, not the useless dirty water from the sky. His rain would be white and sticky, hot and salty and how Jim hoped there would be an impressive amount of it since Harvey probably didn’t come in days.

He would make this rain, a sorcerer gifted with the power of changing weather, a priest blessed by his own god in person. So he would pray, pray harder, pray deeper to summon it. Jim stopped on his way only to drink the last gulp of stale beer to moisten his dry mouth a bit. His tongue felt as rough as sand cloth, but he thought Harvey would even like it. He went out into the alley behind the back door, eager to get what he needed.

Harvey had lit a cigarette and was now fiddling with his belt with one hand. The beer they shared previously was obviously not the first he had tonight. The smoke filled the still air, mixing with smells of sweat and beer as Jim approached Harvey to end his struggle with the belt.

Harvey grinned and pulled Jim closer, grabbing his crotch with his free hand and making his muscles tense in anticipation. Jim kept on undoing his belt and pants, now with trembling hands. Harvey’s palm was circling around his groin, making a path from his belly button down his pubis, stroking his half-hard cock through his clothes, going between his legs towards his ass. 

Harvey bent his knees a little to look into Jim’s eyes and, catching his glance motioned him to lift his head. He took a long drag onto his cigarette that made hissing sounds as its paper was burning. He was still playing with Jim’s cock and balls, squeezing them lightly. When Jim’s face was on the same level with his own, lips parted, tip of the tongue visible behind them, Harvey blew the bitter smoke into his mouth. Their lips were close, but never touched. Jim tried to inhale the smoke properly, failed and coughed, making ridiculous choking sounds. 

Harvey seemed to be relatively sober at the bar, but now he looked like he was dead drunk as if the air was filled with alcohol fumes. Jim felt the fumes filling his mind, too, like they were breathed into him along with cigarette smoke. He finally managed to reach inside Harvey’s pants and gave his cock an experimental squeeze, wishing it to get fully hard to produce liquid he needed so badly. Harvey murmured his approval and patted Jim’s ass, urging him to go on. He went down, thinking about his own release he would be so desperately craving after the rain fell. 

Jim began with stroking Harvey’s cock, first single-handedly, then wrapped fingers of both hands around it and moved them faster, squeezed harder, happy to feel older man’s dick lengthen and fill. Noticing first drops of pre-cum on its head, Jim rubbed his lips upon it, smearing the precious liquid over his dry skin. Harvey finished one cigarette and reached into his shirt’s pocket for another one. Jim opened his mouth, sucking the head of the cock inside it and found the pulsating vein with his tongue, making Harvey shudder and curse under his breath as he lighted the cigarette. Out of the corner of his eye Jim could see the stub of the previous one still smoldering right next to his knee.

“I nearly set my fucking beard on fire”, said Harvey, voice thick with arousal and tobacco smoke. Jim pushed his cock deeper into his dry mouth, guiding it with his hand, fingers of others massaging Harvey’s balls. He managed to relax his throat enough for the head to slide inside, inhaled deeply through his nostrils and began to swallow slowly, drawing his face closer to Harvey’s groin as he was working on his dick. Jim was taught how to deep throat properly, but still couldn’t take the whole cock inside himself. Luckily, Harvey was too busy smoking, playing with Jim’s hair and groaning to notice it. 

He stopped, when he felt it was enough. Jim always liked the feeling of Harvey’s dick getting harder upon his tongue. Somehow it reminded him of the opposite of melting popsicles. He looked up, saw Harvey sucking on his cigarette greedily and copied the movements of his lips and tongue, trying to apply them to a much bigger and thicker object. He started bobbing his head, quickening his pace with each second. 

Harvey threw the cigarette away, grabbed his head with both hands to keep it in place and began to thrust hard into his mouth, muttering something inappropriate about his skills. Usually it was the sign of upcoming orgasm and Jim felt the tickling deep inside his dehydrated body, longing for the moment the rain started. Harvey swore and pulled his cock out of Jim’s mouth, the full length of it covered with his thick saliva. Jim reached out for his balls and sucked each one of them, rolling his tongue around them as Harvey finished himself off. 

Jim felt himself drunk, too, but not enough to miss the thing he came for. He managed to draw closer right when Harvey came, catching his semen with his mouth first, taste exploding upon his tongue. Jim swallowed as much as he dared and let the rest flow down his chin from the corners of his lips. Harvey kept on stroking himself, letting his load out, breathing out through clenched teeth. Jim closed his eyes and felt Harvey’s come rolling down his cheeks and neck, as hot as he’d imagined. He licked his lips, reviving the wonderful taste. He pressed the back of his right hand to his face, enjoying the sensation of his badly shaven skin slicked with sperm. 

Harvey emptied himself and pulled back, catching his breath and trying to smoke a cigarette at the same time. Jim opened his eyes cautiously, blinked and squeezed them tight, wiping away the come. He was lucky to catch the moment, when he saw the salty drops on his eyelashes. 

He felt another heavy drop splashing upon his krone. And yet another. Jim raised his head, hearing that Harvey’s heavy breathing was replaced with the noises of rain, the one others desired as much as he desired Harvey’s come. Jim felt it flowing down into his shirt, mixed with ordinary rainwater, a sudden sensation of dream and reality put together. 

Harvey spat out his useless wet cigarette and went inside, cock still hanging out of his pants. Jim stood up somehow and leaned on the wall to support himself. The heat went out, leaving him with a sense of fresh coolness, tickling his skin like a minty breath. The sudden switch made him so dizzy he wasn’t sure where the rain came from, from above or from below. 

Jim heard Harvey’s special grumbling voice, clearing his mind at once. 

“C'mon, Jim, don’t stand there with that raging hard-on of yours, I’m sure you’ve intended it for better use today.” 

Jim swallowed, pleased to feel the thirst and soreness gone, letting him experience other sensations. Rock-hardness, for example. 

“Will there be kisses on the mouth now?” Jim called out and followed Harvey, curious about the answer.


End file.
